Victim Of Growing Up

A Poem by Skye

It is a poem that I wrotea few years back,about the essence of adolescence .

I sit at my desk
And look around me
I frown at the mess
That's not how it should be.
I'm a teenager now
I should behave likewise
Spongebob's no longer cool
Toys no longer nice.
I remove my picture books
Keep a Eminem CD instead
My phone replaces the stupid clock-
I have to keep my priorities straight .
I throw away my masks and costumes
My funny yellow wig
Thirteen is not much old
But I feel so big.
I keep a box in the corner
Souvenirs from friends in the past
They are my memories
But now they're covered with rust.
I toss it in the bin
And watch it go down
I am satisfied with my work
Time to behave like a grown up,now.
I go to school
And watch the girls be
They behave like grown ups
But they're not like me!
They talk about studies
They never break school rules
They talk about their boyfriends
I Feel like such a fool!
Then I look at my best friends
Singing silly made up songs
Behaving like idiots that they are ;
And now I know where I belong.
A 'mature girl' holds me back
As I'm going down to play
"When will you grow up?" She asks
And very reluctantly I say-
"Never." And then I turn around
Realization dawning over me
This isn't what I am
Or how I'm supposed to be.
I am the girl who laughs without reason
I don't sleep alone at night
I still fight my friends for chocolates
I guess I'm still a child inside.
I dance crazy when I'm depressed
I still go to the playground
And I watch as the mature people
'Order people around.
I may not be innocent
I may not be good
I may not have experienced love
But at least I'm not rude.
I don't swear at every little thing
I don't excel at sports
I don't look down on the 'unpopular group'
I don't keep my scores.
My friends and I sometimes behave
As five year-olds would
Cause childhood-it doesn't last forever
Although I wish it would.

Growing up is tough
As depression knocks upon our door
Anger ,Sadness, mistakes and complications-
Come upon like never before.
So we might as well avoid the responsibilities
And enjoy childhood while it last
And now I wonder
Why did I want to grow up fast?
I go home from school
And I look for the box
Where I kept my souvenirs
But it seems to be lost.
My mom tells me its been thrown away
After I disposed it in the bin
So I sit down and cry-
For growing up had possibly found another victim .